


nights like these

by Anonymous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, M/M, Smoking, Strangers to Lovers, irdk how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Every night, Woojin walks to that one particular spot at the end of the street. Every night, he sees that one particular guy, too. They never talk, until the stranger asks him for a light; unfortunately, Woojin has just decided to quit— but maybe it's not so unfortunate after all.or: Woojin quits smoking, but develops a new habit.





	nights like these

**Author's Note:**

> hello im sorry

_He’s here early_ , Woojin thinks to himself when he arrives at his usual spot near the end of the street. There, he finds the bench he sometimes sits on, the lamp post that’s already very staticky but still offers enough lighting, and the guy who usually stands a little further to the right, nearer to the other street where Woojin supposes he lives.

He’s not sure when he’d started noticing the other, or when _exactly_ the other male had started coming to that particular spot, too, but he likes to think that this other person acknowledges his presence as much as he acknowledges his. Maybe this assumption is actually correct, because as soon as Woojin plants himself by the post where he usually stands, the stranger slowly walks up to him.

“Excuse me?” he says curtly, offering a friendly smile. “Hi, uh, sorry for bothering you, but my lighter won’t work and I was wondering if maybe I could borrow yours?”

Woojin just stares at him at first, and notices that his features look a lot sharper up close; he suddenly has the urge to trace his index finger along the person’s sharp jawline, or maybe run his fingers through his dyed blond hair starting from the darker roots that are now peeking through.

The male must have noticed him staring, because then he speaks again, “Dude, just a light. I’m not gonna mug you, don’t worry.”

“No,” Woojin tells him, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not that—I promised my friends I’d quit, I don’t have a lighter with me.”

“Oh. Just today?” the male asks. Woojin nods in response. “So that’s why…”

 _Why, what?_ Woojin is a little puzzled. Maybe he’s just really tired and he really needs—wants—a drag but his friend Minho had made sure to take his pack of cigarettes from him before he left the house. Or maybe he’s just dumb. He isn’t sure, really.

“What are you doing here then?” the other male asks suddenly.

 _To smoke_ , Woojin almost answers, because that had always been the reason why he goes there, but he isn’t there to smoke tonight, like he always was. He doesn’t really know why he’s there, either; he guesses it’s just out of habit, that his feet had just automatically taken him outside his house and straight towards that spot until he’s just awkwardly standing there doing nothing. So he answers the other male with a shrug.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be asking you this,” the guy tells him with a soft, apologetic smile, and Woojin suddenly wants to tell him that it’s okay for him to ask anything he wants, surprising himself, but he’s at least able to stop himself from saying so. “Anyway,” the guy continues, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Woojin looks at him quizzically, trying to think if they actually work in the same company, or if they take the same route to the office. Before he could even figure it out, though, the other male is already sauntering off, and Woojin can now only watch until he disappears inside the convenience store that’s, _conveniently_ , a few walks away from where he’s standing.

 

“Hyung, where have you been?” is Seungmin’s greeting when Woojin arrives back to their house.

Seungmin is _the other friend_ to whom Woojin had promised he’d quit smoking. He’s a few years younger than Woojin and is taking up a pre-medical degree, which is why he’s actually the one who had really tried hard to convince Woojin to quit until the latter finally gave in just this morning. Woojin likes to joke that he just agreed because he’s already grown _too_ _tired_ of Seungmin’s (and sometimes, Minho’s, too) nagging; the truth is, though, his friends are important to him, so he tries to listen to what they say.

“Just outside,” he answers.

“Why?”

“Just—,” he shrugs.

“To smoke?”

“I didn’t smoke, Seungmin, okay?” Woojin explains. “I’m not yet dependent on that shit, although now I could really use one.”

“No, hyung, that’s really—.”

“Bad for my health, yes, I know, that’s why I’m quitting, but you gotta give me time.”

Seungmin smiles at him. “Thanks for listening to us, hyung. I really—oh, wait, sorry, Hyunjinnie’s calling. Excuse me for a moment.” With that, Seungmin retreats back to his bedroom, leaving Woojin alone in the living with Minho and his, well, _friend_.

“Hey, Jisung,” Woojin greets, sitting down on the couch and joining the other two as they watch some animated Japanese movie Woojin isn’t familiar with.

“Hyung!” Jisung greets him back, smiling, his cheeks looking rounder because of the food he’s stuffed them with. “We bought pizza!”

“ _I_ bough pizza,” Minho points out. “ _You_ are eating _my_ pizza. And _I_ was supposed to watch this movie alone.”

“But hyung, you and I are one!” Jisung tells Minho, making Woojin laugh.

“We are _not_ ,” says Minho. “Shut up, Jisung; just watch the movie.”

Woojin sighs. He’s now used to these kinds of exchanges between the two— _too used_ to it, even, with all the time Jisung has spent at their house, considering the fact that he doesn’t even live there. Woojin supposedly just shares the house with his friends, Minho and Seungmin, but the two always seem to have other people over, namely Jisung and Hyunjin. By now, Woojin has already accepted that he’s going to have to share the house with two more people; maybe he should start asking them to pay rent, too.

“Did he give you another lecture?” Minho asks.

Woojin nods, knowing that Minho’s talking about Seungmin and his _lecturing_ , which Woojin actually appreciates but sometimes gets worn out because of the repetitiveness. “Kinda miss the days he was still scared of me,” he tells Minho. “Now he’s even telling me what to do.”

The younger just wrinkles his nose and frowns. “Those days were awkward, hyung; the atmosphere’s definitely  better now. Besides, he has a point.”

“I know.”

“He only wants what’s best for you.”

“Stop saying stuff like that, it’s weird,” Woojin jokes, even though he really does believe that his friends just want what’s best for him.

“What’s weird, hyung?” Jisung butts in.

“You,” Woojin answers, standing up. He doesn’t really feel like sitting through the movie tonight while the other two are flirting, specially since he’s spent from work and wasn’t allowed to smoke the stress away.  “Both of you are weird. I’m gonna go sleep now.”

 

Before Woojin sleeps that night, he finds himself thinking about _that guy_ , and that’s when he realizes they will indeed see each other tomorrow, most probably at the same spot. That’s also when he decides he’d done enough thinking for the day and should really hit the sack.

 

***

 

It’s been a week since Woojin had decided to quit smoking; he must admit, it’s hard, specially when cigarettes are so easily accessible, but he takes pride in himself for not giving in. That’s why tonight, as he’s sitting on the bench at his usual spot, he thinks of what he can reward himself with. He’s busy deciding whether he should buy fried or marinated chicken for dinner, when someone approaches him.

“Mind if I sit here?” the guy asks, startling Woojin, who just shrugs. He sits down and takes something from his pocket, which Woojin soon realizes is a pack of cigarettes. He takes one and lights it up, before glancing at Woojin. “I’d offer you some but you told me last time you’re quitting, so…” he shrugs.

“Yeah,” mumbles Woojin. He’s playing with the straps of his messenger bag, glad that he’d decided to go straight here from work instead of going home to drop his stuff first. He hasn’t really been sitting there for long; he thinks maybe around half an hour or so, which is a little longer compared to the last few days, but he’d also arrived there earlier than usual so he thinks he’s allowed to spend more time sitting there and doing nothing.

“How’s that been going for you, by the way?” the guy asks him, then, as if realizing how awfully casual he sounded, adds, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Quitting?” Woojin replies. He finds that he actually doesn't mind the other male asking, despite the fact that they don’t really know each other. “It’s going well, actually. It’s been a week.”

The guy nods slowly, and for some stupid reason Woojin is suddenly conscious of how close they’re sitting beside each other, of how he could easily tell the paleness of the other male’s skin and the dry, almost brittle-looking texture of his bleach-blond hair and the pinkish tint of his lips which betrays the fact that cigarettes frequently touch them.

“You don’t smoke that much, do you?” the guy asks this time, although it strikes Woojin as more of a rhetorical question than an actual inquiry. He isn’t wrong, because the guy continues, “That’s why it doesn’t really seem like a big deal to you.”

“Well, it’s a big deal to my friends,” Woojin answers with a shrug. “Anyway, I just do— _did_ —it to relieve stress from work; maybe now I can actually find other things to do, like… working out, maybe?”

“Oh. Working out is good. Research says exercising really reduces stress and makes people happier; you know, improving mood and energy and stuff. There’s actually a gym nearby, did you know? Just a little further than that convenience store,” the other says, referring to the one he’d disappeared into last week, which he briefly pointed a finger at as well. “You should check it out.”

“Sure,” Woojin agrees. He must admit it’s a little weird, taking gym-recommendations from a stranger, but said stranger looks fit, if Woojin were to base it on his toned upper arms (because for some reason, the guy’s wearing a muscle tee, outside, at night). Not that Woojin’s checking the stranger out, though; he’s just… trying to decide on how credible the guy seems. It doesn’t really take him long to decide on that, anyway, because he’s already thinking about which day of the week he should go there, and whether he should ask Minho to come with or not.

“Maybe we’ll see each other there, too,” the other male says with a grin, taking another long drag.

“Maybe,” Woojin answers with a shrug, before standing up. He looks at the blond, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks and, without waiting for an answer, starts walking home, with a stupid smile on his face.

 

“Hyung—,” Seungmin starts.

“I was just outside,” Woojin cuts him off immediately.

“You smell like smoke.”

Woojin rolls his eyes at his friend. “I didn’t smoke, okay?” he explains. “There’s just this other guy who’s also literally always there, smoking.”

“Are we supposed to believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Hyung,” Hyunjin butts in from where he’s seated on the couch after swallowing his food; he’s the one staying over tonight, Woojin guesses. “You mean the blond one?”

Woojin is mildly surprised that Hyunjin knows this, but he nods. “How do you know he’s blond?”

“I’ve seen you guys a couple times,” the younger explains. “Although, if I recall correctly, you guys don’t really stand near each other…”

“Yeah, we don’t, but we sat on the bench earlier. I’m not sure why I _need_ to explain myself to the both you, you know.”

“Oh, so that’s why you reek of smoke.”

“Yes, and if you could actually tell, his cigarettes smell stronger.”

“I can’t, actually,” Seungmin points out. “Anyway, hyung, we bought you chicken. It’s on the table.”

“Thanks,” the older says gratefully, partly because they bought him dinner and he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore, partly because Seungmin let the topic slide. While he appreciates that the younger always checks in on him and his progress, sometimes it gets annoying how closely he keeps an eye on him, but ultimately he knows and understands that this is just how Seungmin is (sometimes he gets a little… obsessive).

Woojin later joins his two friends seated on the couch, watching a documentary while eating dinner. “Where’s Minho, by the way?” he asks them.

“Out with Jisung,” Seungmin answers with a shrug. “I don’t know where.”

“Probably out on a date,” Hyunjin says; then he turns to Woojin, “So hyung, what’s his name?”

“ _Whose_ name?” Woojin asks.

“Blond guy.”

He pauses. He  doesn’t even know the guy’s name.

He doesn’t even know his name.

How come he’s never asked him for  his name?

He had  to mentally scold  himself for forgetting to ask his name, really.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I’m gonna ask him tomorrow.”

 

***

 

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” the guy asks Woojin.

“Yes, Chan-ssi,” he answers the other male. “I  _am_ serious about this.”

Two more weeks have passed and Woojin still hasn’t as much as touched a single cigarette, which Seungmin is totally ecstatic about. If he were to be honest, he himself _is_ really happy about this progress as well, and surprisingly, he actually finds it not that hard to quit this vice, which is why there's now a part of him that regrets not deciding to do it earlier. But if he _had_ actually decided to quit earlier, then he wouldn't have probably met Chan.

In the span of those two weeks, too, Woojin had also gone to the nearby gym Chan was talking about last time for at least three times, all during the night, alone because Minho was always busy or out with Jisung. Those three nights at the gym, one of which was just last night, were the only ones where he didn’t go to his usual spot in the past two weeks. The first night was the only night he’d actually bumped into Chan (and his friend), and he’d ended up asking for Chan’s name, a few days after he’d told Hyunjin that he would, and Woojin was glad to finally have something to call him aside from just ‘the blond guy’ whenever he talks about him.

And Woojin finds that he does talk about Chan a lot; he does it unconsciously, too. “Who is this Chan guy?” Minho had even asked him once, to which he’d only answered with, “Someone who lives in the other street, I think.” Minho had looked at him questioningly, but thankfully didn’t prod anymore (probably because Jisung was there at that time, too).

But Chan talks about himself a lot, too; maybe not as much as Jisung does, but still enough for Woojin to know that: Chan used to live in Australia when he was young and his family still lives there as of now, and that his dad runs a swimming club back there, too. Chan has a dog back in Australia named Berry. Chan works at a hagwon and teaches kids English. Chan doesn’t like watching movies alone. Chan used to share an apartment with his friend Changbin (the friend he usually goes to the gym with), but he now currently lives alone. There are more things that Woojin had learned about the other in just the span of two weeks, but these are what comes off the top of his head.

As much as Woojin, admittedly, likes staring at Chan’s face—most specifically his lips especially whenever he blows smoke out—because he finds him pretty, he thinks he definitely enjoys listening to Chan’s stories more. Even now, as they’re both seated on the same bench they’d sat on almost every night for the past few weeks, Chan is talking about something that happened earlier at work, and Woojin’s just nodding his head and listening intently.

Sometimes, though, he still gets distracted; after all, Chan _is_ attractive, and his lips look really nice, and Woojin just wants to—.

“How old are you, by the way?” Chan suddenly asks, and Woojin has to subtly shake his head. “I’m twenty-five, in case you’re wondering.”

“Oh,” he says; he doesn’t even recall what Chan had just asked, but he adds, “We’re the same age.”

“Really?”

Woojin nods. “I’m twenty-five, too.”

“Should we…” Chan says slowly. “Should we start addressing each other informally now?”

Woojin pauses for half a second, before answering, “If you want to.”

“Alright.” Chan stands up. “Well, _Woojinnie_ , I gotta go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he turns around and leaves Woojin, who’s just smiling to himself like an idiot until he receives a message from Minho asking him where he is.

 

“Hyung, did you get what we asked for?” Jisung asks as soon as Woojin steps inside the house.

“Yes,” the older answers, handing a plastic bag of the stuff Minho had asked him to buy at the convenience store.

“Thank you!” the youngers excalaims, wrapping his arms around Woojin before eagerly taking the bag and sauntering off to the kitchen.

“What’s he up to now?” Woojin asks Minho, who had just walked over after hearing Jisung’s noise.

Minho shrugs. “He said he wants to try out some recipe he found online,” he explains. “I didn’t cook us dinner, by the way; we’re probably gonna have to eat whatever shit he makes.”

“Yum.” Woojin almost shudders. He’d once tried some fried rice that Jisung cooked; it was a little too salty for his taste, but Minho didn’t even seem to mind as he stuffed his face with food, even though most of the time he was teasing Jisung about it not tasting good.

“Hey, he can cook,” insists Minho, although Woojin is sure that if Jisung was there, Minho wouldn’t be saying this.

“Sure, if you say so.”

He walks to the living room and takes a seat on the couch; Minho follows him, and Woojin thinks it’s not the brightest and safest decision to leave Jisung alone in the kitchen unsupervised, but the couch already feels too comfortable. He’s sure Minho would be glued to Jisung’s side sooner or later, anyway.

But of course, Minho just has to interrogate him first. “Hyung, where’ve you been?” he asks.

“Just outside,” the older answers. It’s the exact same answer he gives whenever his friends ask him the exact same question Minho had just asked.

“Let me guess, you were with that Chan guy?”

Woojin shrugs.

“Hyung, why do you still go outside? You don’t smoke anymore, right?”

This is at least the third time Woojin has to take a pause in the past half hour or so. He hasn’t stopped to think about _why_ he still goes out every single night, even during weekends. _Out of habit_ , he would have reasoned, except he’s pretty sure that by now this habit would’ve been cut along with his vice. Why does he still go outside, sit there for an hour or so in the chilly night?

“Because Chan’s there,” he answers finally. There’s really no point in denying, anyway, since it’s already pretty obvious, and Minho’s quite a perceptive person and the two of them have been friends for so long that Woojin is sure the younger could already read him well.

“Who even is this Chan?” Minho asks. “Why haven’t I met him yet?”

“He’s older than you, you know?”

“I _don’t_. Because I haven’t met him yet.”

Woojin just smiles and shakes his head. “He’s a friend,” he says.

 

***

 

Woojin finds himself sitting on the bench at their usual spot again, waiting for Chan. He doesn’t know when his casual sitting around, waiting for time to pass became _waiting for Chan_ , nor does he know when _his_ usual spot became _their_ usual spot. All he knows is that he definitely likes it better this way. He likes it better because, now, sometimes Chan arrives with a bag of takeout which they share while talking about their days; but the food just comes as a bonus, he thinks, because he finds that what he really looks forward to every night by now is seeing Chan.

That’s why he wonders why he feels a little disinterested (and maybe a little annoyed, too) when Chan arrives and he just starts talking about this new guy at work, whose name is Phillip or something.

“He’s pretty funny, too,” Chan says about said new guy. “And, guess what?”

“What?” Woojin replies blandly.

“He’s also from Australia.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I didn’t believe it at first, either; I thought he was faking his accent, but we got to talk for a while and he really _is_ Australian.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while, with Chan just taking long drags of his cigarette while Woojin watches the smoke disappear into the chilly night air. He admittedly feels a little guilty for not being as enthusiastic about what Chan was talking about earlier, and he's about to apologize for it, when Chan speaks again.

“I think...” he says, slowly; he takes a pause, takes one last, long drag, and throws away the cigarette butt and steps on it as he puffs out smoke. “I think having Felix around is really nice.”

Woojin starts to get a little annoyed again, but he pushes it down and says instead, “That’s good.”

The other sighs heavily. “I just miss Australia,” he says. “I miss _home_.”

And Woojin almost slaps himself for failing to take this into account. Chan is probably very homesick, and having someone he could talk to about his hometown is definitely something that _should_ excite him. While Woojin thinks he understands Chan a bit, because he himself doesn’t live with his family at the moment, too, he really can’t imagine being this far away from his family; he thinks Chan must be really strong for being able to bear being this distance for this long, too. So Woojin does the only thing he could think of to try and comfort the other: he takes Chan’s now empty hand and holds it firmly, offering the slightly taken aback male a reassuring smile.

Chan doesn’t draw his hand back, and they stay like that for another long while, just appreciating each other’s presence in the moment. Woojin thinks he also really appreciates Chan’s presence in his life, no matter how weird or cheesy it might sound even to himself, and no matter how much he’s sure Minho would tease him for it or how much Seungmin would bug him about it if he ever tells them this. He thinks Chan is part of the reason why it had been so easy to not light up a cigarette for as long as he hasn't, and—he’s not entirely sure if it’s important to note—Chan didn’t light up another cigarette after this, either, at least for the night, and Woojin also thinks he wants to keep it this way, too.

“You know,” he says a moment later, attempting to lighten the mood, “it’s been exactly one month since I decided to quit.”

“Really? That’s great!” Chan tells him with a smile, and Woojin thinks his attempt was a success. “I didn’t even realize it’s already been a month.”

It’s been a month since they’d first talked, too. Woojin isn’t even sure why it matters to him, but it does. He doesn’t tell Chan that, though; instead, he asks, “You wanna go out?”

Chan just looks back at him quizzically, raising one if his eyebrows. “We’re already out?” he says, and Woojin has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m kidding,” Chan amends. “Where do you wanna go?”

Woojin shrugs. “I don’t know, let’s get dinner, maybe? Have you eaten?” the other male shakes his head. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

 

“Where are we going, exactly?” Chan asks as they’re walking.

“It’s a surprise,” Woojin answers.

“I’m not that familiar with this part of the neighborhood,” Chan admits, moving a little closer to Woojin, and the latter is reminded that they’re still holding each others’ hand.

“Relax,” says Woojin; he pulls Chan even closer to his side and holds his hand a little more firmly. “I’m taking you to my favorite restaurant.”

They ended up walking to a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that’s rather hard to spot if one doesn’t already know that it’s actually there; it’s one that Woojin frequents with his friends, which is why he was honestly praying to any god while they were walking that none of them would be there tonight, so he lets out a sigh when they’d entered and none of his friends were in sight.

“Welcome to the best restaurant in the neighborhood,” Woojin tells Chan as they look for seats. “Do you want to get a table outside? So you can smoke.”

Chan scrunches his nose and shakes his head no. “Here’s fine.”

They sit at a table to the side, across each other, and Woojin has to reluctantly let go of Chan’s hand. Once seated, they are immediately handed the menu. Chan let Woojin decide what to get, and naturally Woojin insists he should try his favorites. “Honestly, everything here’s good,” he tells him. “You can get anything and you won’t regret, but the chicken they serve here is the best”

“Oh, I like chicken,” Chan says thoughtfully. “We should just get what you usually get.”

“Okay.”

Woojin calls on the waiter and orders food for the two of them; he sure hopes Chan eats well, because he’s ordering a lot of food—probably too much for two people, but he guesses he’ll find out later. When the waiter leaves and he finally turns to face Chan again, the latter is looking at him with an expression he’s learned as either worried or nervous, and he isn’t sure if the lighting inside the restaurant is playing tricks with his eyes but he thinks Chan’s cheeks look a little pink.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Woojin,” Chan starts; his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s worrying his lips, and Woojin almost tells him to relax but just then he speaks again. “Is this a date?” he asks.

 _Oh._ Woojin isn’t expecting that question. But… is it?

“It depends,” he replies with a smile. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yes…?”

“It’s a date, then,” Woojin confirms. “This is our first date.”

 

***

 

Woojin has dated a couple of people before, but none of them were too committal. The last actual, serious relationship he’s had was a couple years back, when he was still in uni, with a guy named Jungwoo. The relationship lasted for over a year, and it had been a great year, he thinks, until it had gotten rocky because they both became very busy with their studies and barely had time for each other, which eventually led to the end of their relationship.

He’s still thankful to Jungwoo, though, because he’d experienced a lot of firsts with him—they both had with each other, actually. He resents none of the memories, and regrets none of the things he’d done during those times, but these past few days he just couldn't help but wonder what Chan would think when he finds out about it. And again, he’s not even sure _why_ it matters; it isn’t like he and Chan are actually dating now. Sure, they’d gone on one date and they see each other every night, they talk a lot and have shared a lot of stories with each other, Woojin enjoys spending time with Chan and he hopes the latter feels the same— but that doesn’t mean they’re dating.

He doesn’t want to jump into conclusions, too, because by now he’s learned that not everyone wants labels. Besides, he isn’t sure if that’s what Chan wants, because they haven’t even talked about it since that night, which has been more than  week ago.

Woojin isn’t sure what Chan wants, really, and because he wants to be careful with Chan, he’s going to respect that— even when, now, it’s admittedly a little hard to do so because he’s currently standing on the balcony of Chan’s apartment instead of their usual spot at the end of the street, and Chan is just standing a few feet away away from him, looking pretty and striking with the contrast of his pale skin against the dark night sky.

Woojin isn’t sure what he’s doing here, either. When Chan had invited him over earlier that night when he’d arrived at their spot, there had been absolutely no hesitation on Woojin’s part. _He_ knows what he wants, and he wants Chan, but if Chan doesn’t want him... then what _is_ he doing here?

“Hey,” Woojin starts. “It’s getting kinda late. Maybe I should go.”

“Oh.” Chan turns to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay,” he says, rather dejectedly. He takes another drag from his cigarette.

Woojin watches as the smoke comes out of Chan’s lips, wonders what inhibitions it takes along with it out of the male’s system. He watches as Chan brings it back up to his lips, which still look pink and plump and smooth even after all the packs of cigarettes they’ve tasted, and as Chan takes yet another long drag, Woojin thinks he couldn’t take it anymore.

The strides he takes towards the other are small yet steady, and Chan is backing away slightly by the time Woojin reaches him, his back almost hitting the railing. He takes the cigarette from Chan’s slightly cold fingers, brings it up to his own lips, inhales deeply, and throws it on the ground and steps on it. Chan looks at him questioningly for a quarter of a second, until he’s breathing out the smoke into his mouth and Chan breathes it in, lets it out, lets his eyes dart down to Woojin’s lips before fluttering close.

Then Woojin finally kisses him.

It tastes a little bitter at first, remnants of the smoke they’d just shared apparent, but it _feels really good_ —almost as good as smoking itself, except kissing doesn’t come with all the harm that comes with smoking. Kissing Chan doesn’t come with all the guilt and regret Woojin had felt whenever he took another drag before promising his friends he’d quit.

Then Chan’s lips start to taste sweeter, more like the way Woojin imagined his lips would taste like—if that makes sense. Woojin really likes how eager Chan is, although he must admit that his kisses are a little sloppy; he doesn’t really mind, though, not when Chan starts trailing his lips down his neck and nibbling on that particular spot that makes him feel weak in the knees and causes him to let out a low moan. This seems to encourage Chan, because then his hands start roaming from Woojin’s hair to his chest to his back where they settle, pressing their bodies together, while Woojin’s hands are still placed firmly on both sides of the other’s hips, his thumbs gently rubbing the  strip of bare skin visible under the hem of Chan’s shirt.

They make out for a while longer; lips crashing against each other, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, hands roaming under shirts, fingertips grazing bare skin. Woojin thinks maybe he finally knows what Chan wants, maybe they both want the same thing—at least, right now—and he finally lets himself act on it.

He starts walking back inside the apartment, and Chan obliges, their lips never leaving each other’s as they take uneven steps causing them to bump into furniture, until Woojin ends up sitting on the couch and Chan’s sitting on his lap with his legs on either side of him.

Chan starts kissing down his neck again, and Woojin can’t help but let sounds escape his lips, breathing out Chan’s name softly until Chan moans into his neck and— accidentally bites it because Woojin’s phone suddenly starts ringing and vibrating. They ignore the phone, though. “Sorry,” Chan says; his breathing is slightly heavy and his lips look more plump than usual, his hair is also messy, and Woojin thinks he looks really cute like this. Chan kisses him again, slower this time, on the lips, and Woojin lets out a sigh when Chan moves to his cheek, to his jaw, back to his neck, and Woojin knows that if they don’t stop now, he won’t be able to later.

“Chan,” he  exhales, “Channie— _fuck_ —I have to go.”

The other male’s voice sounds muffled when he asks, “Now?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs, letting his forehead drop onto Woojin’s shoulder. “Shit.”

“Give me your phone,” Woojin tells him.

Chan looks up so suddenly, Woojin’s afraid he might’ve hurt his neck; he stares at him for a few seconds. “Fuck,” he says finally. “Were you just gonna rob me all this time? In my own house?”

“What?” Woojin laughs at how ridiculous the question is, until he realizes that this must really be how he sounded when he asked Chan for his phone. “Channie, no, I’m not gonna rob you, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Chan replies, taking out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and handing it to Woojin. “If ever you’re planning to rob me, just please log out of all of my accounts there, yeah? Don’t hack into—.”

“Chan, you’re literally sitting on my lap, how am I supposed to rob you?” Woojin asks. As if only realizing this, Chan immediately removes his hands from under Woojin’s shirt, gets off his lap, and settles beside him on the couch. Woojin lets out a chuckle. “Relax,” he tells Chan as he starts typing in his number, saves it, and then dials it. He notices Chan watching him, and in the periphery of his vision he sees the way Chan’s lips curl up into a smile as he realizes what’s actually happening. “There.” He hands the phone back. “I didn’t rob you.”

“So…” Chan muses, “I’ll call you?”

“Yeah. Or _I’ll_ call you. It depends.”

“Okay.”

“See you tomorrow.”

 

Woojin absolutely hates the fact that Minho could read him so well (or maybe Chan left a mark and Minho’s keen, observant eyes didn’t miss it). As soon as he walks into the living room, the younger asks him, “Why are you smiling?” Instead of answering the question, though, Woojin forces the muscles on his face to relax.

“Really, hyung?” says Minho. “You think I didn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” replies the older.

“Do you wanna tell me something?”

“Do _you_ wanna tell me something?” Woojin directs the question back, eyes stealing a very noticeable glance at Jisung, who’s suddenly walking towards them, wearing a panda face mask.

“Woojin-hyung!” he greets, somehow still cheerful despite not being able to move his mouth and facial muscles well. “I got a bunch of freebies from this talk I attended earlier at uni,” he tells Woojin; he points at his face. “I have two more of these. You and Minho-hyung can have them! Don’t tell Seungminnie.”

“I think I still have a bunch of face masks in my room,” Minho says.

“But hyung! This one’s a pig,” the younger tells him, raising up one of the packs and clearly trying hard not to laugh.

“Great. Woojin-hyung can have that and I’ll take this other—.”

“I’ll take this,” Woojin says, already holding up the other pack in front of Minho’s face. “You can be the pig.” Minho swats his hand away and scowls at the both of them, but takes the mask and heads to the bathroom, anyway.

“Is he actually mad this time?” Jisung asks Woojin after hearing the bathroom door shut close.

“He _can’t_ get mad at you, Jisung, don’t worry,” Woojin answers.

“What do you mean, _he can’t_? He’s always mad at me, always teasing, always annoying—.”

“Trust me, Jisung,” Woojin says firmly. “He can’t get mad at you.”

“That’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me, hyung.”

Just then, Minho walks out of the bathroom, wearing a pink, pig face mask. “Are you happy now?” he asks Jisung, and the younger just breaks into a huge grin, almost causing his own mask to fall off.

“It suits you,” Woojin tells Minho before heading inside his room.

 

***

 

“I’m quitting,” Chan announces as he sits down beside Woojin on the bench.

Woojin turns to look at him. “What?” he asks, a little confused; he doesn’t recall Chan ever talking about not liking his job anymore. He even thought Chan enjoys work a lot more these days because of Felix, too.

“I’m quitting smoking.”

“Oh.” So Chan wasn’t talking about his job; but Woojin doesn’t recall him even mentioning anything about quitting that, either. “All of a sudden? Why?”

The blond male shrugs. “Just because.”

“Okay,” Woojin answers slowly, nodding his head once and furrowing his brows. He’s a little surprised at the sudden decision, but also feels happy about it, too. Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming, since Chan had been smoking less and less each night that passed; when they’d first started talking, the male finished at least five sticks every night, and yesterday Woojin is sure that Chan had only smoked half of the cigarette he’d also taken a drag on before throwing away.

He winces at the memory. _Shit_ , he thinks, _I ruined my streak_. He’s about to mentally scold himself, when Chan speaks again.

“I felt like...” Chan explains. “Seeing me smoke makes you want to do it, too, and it’s just— well, I didn’t like that feeling.”

Woojin thinks his heart just melted; he thinks it’s really thoughtful on the other’s part, but he also doesn’t want him to feel guilty, specially because it had still been Woojin’s decision, after all. He takes Chan’s hand and squeezes lightly. “Channie, it’s okay,” he assures him.

“No, it’s not,” the other counters. “You haven’t smoked in, what, over a month? And you suddenly take a drag last night and, yes, making out was—,” he catches himself.

“Was…?” Woojin prods.

“Well, it was really nice, Woojin, but I—,” Chan sighs. “I would’ve liked to kiss you without any of that nasty shit.”

“You _do_ realize that nasty shit goes into your system every day, right? Besides, we made out long enough for it to wear off. Probably.”

“Wow, don’t you want me to quit?”

Woojin breaks into laughter. “I _do_ , actually,” he admits. “I’m glad you’ve decided to do that. We could start a new streak together, since I ruined mine last night.”

“Sounds great.”

The two sit there for a while, just like they do any other night; Chan has just finished telling Woojin about some video Felix had shown him earlier during their lunch break at work, when Woojin _impulsively_ asks, “Hey, do you wanna come over to our place?”

“What? Like, now?” Chan asks. Woojin nods. “Sure, I guess.”

 

“The house is—well, the house isn’t a mess, it’s just…” Woojin says as they’re nearing his house. “I’ve mentioned I live with two other people, right? Well, those two always have two other people over, and I’m just not sure if they’re all at home right now and what they might be doing, since no one’s replying to my messages.”

“Okay,” Chan answers, nodding his head slowly.

“Sometimes it’s a riot, especially when all four of them are there, which I hope isn’t the case for tonight, although it likely _is_ the case since it’s the weekend…”

“Okay,” Chan repeats.

“It might be a little noisier than what you’re used to—.”

“Woojin, I work at a hagwon, teaching kids. _It’s okay._ ”

“Okay.” They finally stop in front of the door and as Woojin places a hand on the knob, he whispers, more to himself, “Here goes.”

The sound of the TV and Minho’s bickering with Jisung are what welcomes the two as they enter the house. Woojin sighs. _Well_ , he thinks, _we’re already here_. Minho and Jisung didn’t even seem to notice them, though, so he leads Chan to the kitchen, where he assumes Seungmin and Hyunjin are.

The assumption is right, and Seungmin’s nasally voice greets him, “Hyung,” but stops abruptly when he notices Chan. “Hello. Oh my god, sorry, I didn’t know hyung had a visitor; the house is a mess.”

“It’s not a mess, babe,” Hyunjin assures him. Then he turns to the other two. “Hyung,” he greets Woojin and smiles at Chan. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Chan greets them back awkwardly.

“Okay.” Woojin claps his hands once and turns to his friends. “This is Chan,” he introduces. “Chan, this is Seungmin and his boyfriend Hyunjin.”

“Nice to finally meet you!” Seungmin greets, extending out a hand which Chan takes. Hyunjin does the same.

“You, too,” the older says. “Woojinnie talks about you guys a lot.”

“Hyung does?” Hyunjin asks, wide eyed.

“Hey,” Woojin says indignantly. “Don’t you think that makes me sound too bad?” The younger just laughs and returns to slicing onions; Seungmin just smiles and shakes his head. “Come on,” Woojin turns back to Chan, “I’ll introduce you to the other two.”

Woojin has barely uttered a word when they’d reached the couch when Minho speaks, “Ah! Hello, you must be Chan-ssi!”

“Hi?” Chan greets him, and Woojin almost wants to hit Minho.

And of course, Jisung joins in on the fun. “Chan?” he asks. “You mean, Woojinnie-hyung’s Channie?”

“I—,” Chan stutters.

“Right,” Woojin interjects before the two could embarrass him even more. “Chan, these are Minho and Jisung. Minho, Jisung, this is Chan.”

“Chan-hyung,” says Minho, “come sit with us for a while.”

“Yeah,” Jisung adds. “Please.”

“Okay,” Chan answers, his voice tainted with a little uncertainty, but he does sit down in between the two, which Woojin thinks is a wrong move but it’s already too late to pull Chan back because he knows Minho and Jisung are already going to pin him there.

Woojin sighs, standing there awkwardly. Minho and Jisung are already chatting Chan up, while Hyunjin and Seungmin are busy preparing dinner. He chooses to walk back to the latter couple.

“Need help?” he asks them.

Hyunjin smiles at him and replies, “It’s okay, hyung, we’ve got this. Go wash, or something. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure if I want to leave him with Minho and Jisung,” Woojin whispers, and just then Chan turns to look back at him and smiles, raising a thumbs up as if he heard what Woojin had just said.

“He’ll be fine, hyung,” Seungmin tells him with a reassuring smile. “Minho-hyung and Jisung can be decent when needed.” And since Woojin’s first instinct is to believe the younger, he nods, turns around, and walks to the bathroom to take a shower. If any of his friends embarrass him, at least he’s not there to experience it in real time _and_ in front of Chan.

 

“Thanks for the meal,” Chan tells Woojin and his friends as he steps out of the house. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Nice meeting you, too, hyung!” says Jisung. “Please visit us again soon.”

“You really act as if you live here, huh?” Minho teases him.

“Okay, okay,” Woojin tells the younger ones as he, too, steps out and follows Chan outside. “We’ll be off now.”

 

They walk slowly for a while, savoring the cold night air and the warmth of their hands intertwined.

“You don’t have to walk me home, you know?” Chan says. “I literally live in the next street.”

“I know,” replies Woojin. “I’ll still walk you home, though.”

“Alright, then.”

They stay silent for a couple more minutes, just walking hand in hand. They’ve passed by the end of the street— _their spot_ —and have the turn towards Chan’s street when Woojin speaks again.

“So…” he starts. “Were they too much?”

“Your friends?” asks Chan. “No. They’re really nice, actually.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.”

“Yeah. I had a great time, too. I’ve never had omurice for dinner, you know?”

Woojin chuckles. “Seungminnie really likes eggs,” he explains. “I think we have eggs every time he’s assigned to cook.”

“That’s nice,” Chan notes. “Back home, eggs are sort of considered as breakfast food. My mum used to cook them for us a lot, too; she still does, probably, for them.”

“Hey, don’t be sad,” Woojin tells him, suddenly pulling him close to his side; he takes his hand from Chan’s only to wrap an arm around him. “I’ll cook you breakfast if you want.”

“Sure,” the other male replies, and Woojin doesn’t miss the pink tint on his cheeks and the upturned corners of his lips _and_ the way his arm wraps around Woojin’s waist, too.

 

“Thanks again,” Chan tells Woojin after giving his cheek a soft kiss.

They’re finally outside Chan’s apartment, and Woojin feels a little sad because he thinks he didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Chan tonight. But Chan said he had a great time, so it’s okay, because Woojin also thinks that’s what really matters.

“Anytime,” he answers. “Thanks, too. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Woojin smiles and nods one last time before turning around and heading home. He’s taken maybe five steps away from Chan’s doorway when the latter calls, “Hey, Woojin.”

He turns around. “Yeah?”

“Should I call you my boyfriend now?”

Woojin slowly breaks into a grin. “If you want to.”

“Okay.”

 

***

 

It’s the first time in a long while that Woojin spends the night at home. It’s also the first time in an even longer while that his _actual_ housemates are the only people there, too.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” he asks Seungmin, who’s sitting beside him on the couch, reading.

“Studying,” the younger answers without looking up. “He has an exam tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Woojin nods. He thinks it’s a little weird, though, because Seungmin usually helps Hyunjin study even when Seungmin himself already has a lot of things to study for, too. “You guys didn’t fight, did you?” he asks.

Seungmin finally looks up this time, and Woojin notes that he looks really tired, considering it’s the weekend. “We did,” he admits. “Well, kind of. I mean, it’s not actually a fight, hyung, just a simple misunderstanding.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

“I’m a little sad, but it’s fine. I sent him a message earlier, too; I’m just waiting for his reply so I could call him. He probably hasn’t seen it yet, though...”

Just then, Minho walks into the living room, carrying a box of pizza which he places on top of the coffee table as he situates himself between the other two on the couch. “If Hyunjin doesn’t text you back, I’ll fight him,” he announces.

“No, you won’t,” retorts Seungmin. He puts his book down, turns the TV on, and grabs a slice of pizza. “It’s my fault, anyway. I forgot to tell him I had an appointment with my professor earlier and he waited for me at the cafe. I didn’t even remember he told me he’d be there until I got home.”

“Oh,” Minho nods. “Well, then, it _is_ your fault.”

“I know, okay—oh my god, wait. He’s calling.” Seungmin hands his half-eaten pizza to Woojin, stands up, and walks to his room, leaving the two older males in silence.

It’s too quiet, Woojin thinks. Maybe he’s already gotten too used to Hyunjin and Jisung being around. Speaking of whom, he turns towards Minho and points out, “You’re _alone_.” Minho just blinks at him. “Wait, you guys didn’t fight, too, did you?”

“Who?” Minho asks. “Me and Seungminnie?”

“You and Jisung.”

“No. Why would we?”

“I don’t know. Where is he, anyway?”

“Out to dinner with his brother. Where’s Chan-hyung?”

Woojin pauses, a little taken aback by the question. “At home, probably,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay,” says Minho. “How’s quitting going, by the way?”

“It’s going quite well,” Woojin says. His friends haven’t asked him about it in a while; he’s almost forgotten about it, too, then he remembers it would’ve already been a two-month streak for him if it weren’t for the night he and Chan had first kissed. The new streak is one month, at least. And with Chan. And Woojin thinks they’d been kissing a lot better without the smoke,  too.

“Good. Seungminnie doesn’t need to nag anymore.”

“Yeah. Channie’s quitting, too, you know?”

“Oh?” Minho turns to look at him with an arched brow. “You guys getting serious or something?”

The older shrugs. “I guess,” he answers. “We’re dating now, so…” He finishes with another shrug.

Minho nods his head, humming, then says,  “I could’ve actually guessed that without you telling me.”

“I know.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy, hyung.”

“I am. Thanks.”

After a few minutes of (rather unusual) silence, Seungmin finally walks back to the couch with a smile on his face. “Hyunjin’s coming over,” he tells the other two.

“Great,”  says Minho. “Tell him to bring food.”

 

***

 

 **_Woojin:_ ** _what time are you getting off work?_

 **_Channie:_ ** _Around 8 PM_

 **_Channie:_ ** _Why?_

 **_Channie:_ ** _Are you gonna pick me up?_

 **_Woojin:_ ** _^^_

 **_Channie:_ ** _???_

 

Woojin waits in his car outside of Chan’s workplace. He sees the kids already rushing out of the building, chatting with each other, probably about how tired they are  or how excited they are about dinner— those were the usual topics he and his friends used to talk about back when _he_ was in hagwon, as well. That had been years ago, though, and Woojin never would have thought he’d be back to a hagwon ever again, but here he is.

Once he notices fewer and fewer students are exiting the building, he goes out of his car and stands to wait near the doors. Just a few minutes later, he finally spots Chan moving closer to the exit, along with another blond male who looks a little shorter and a lot thinner than both Chan and Woojin,  and a short-haired girl with fair skin and slightly plump built. The three of them were all talking until Chan notices Woojin waiting outside, and he breaks into a huge grin.

“Hey,” Woojin greets him. He turns to give a small bow to his boyfriend’s companions, too.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think you were serious,” Chan tells him, instantly slipping a hand in his and lacing their finger together. “These are my friends, by the way. This is Felix and this is Jimin.”

“Hi,” Woojin offers his free hand. “Kim Woojin.”

The short-haired girl is the first to shake his hand. “Park Jimin,” she says with a smile. “Woojin-ssi, I’d like to thank you for helping Chan quit smoking.”

“Oh. I didn’t, really. He wanted to, on his own.”

“He told me you’re mainly the reason why.”

“Hey,” Chan butts in. “Don’t—.”

“Anyway, I gotta go,” Jimin continues. “Nice meeting you, Woojin-ssi. Take care of Chan, please; he sometimes forgets to sleep. Bye!” She walks over to a car parked nearby and gets in, honks once at them, and drives off.

The rest are just watching as the car disappears on the road, when Felix speaks, startling Woojin because of his voice. “Jimin-noona really knows how to tease you and what about,” he tells Chan. He turns to Woojin and reaches out a small hand, which the older shakes carefully. “I’m Felix, by the way!” he says cheerfully. “Chan-hyung talks about you a lot.”

“Okay, okay,” Chan interrupts. “Don’t need to tell him that.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m kidding. It’s fine,” Chan assures him.  “Will you be okay taking the bus alone?”

“Of course, hyung! And I’ll be off now. You guys enjoy your date!” Then Felix turns around and walks off to catch the next bus. Woojin knows Felix and Chan always take the bus together, and he feels slightly guilty for taking away the younger’s companion for tonight (and probably more nights to come), but then Chan smiles at him and pulls him along towards the car and he lets the guilt go.

“Where to?” Chan asks once inside the car and Woojin starts driving.

“There’s this movie I really wanna see,” Woojin replies.

“Let’s go see it, then.”

 

They did end up seeing the movie, but, no matter how much Woojin really did want to watch it, all he did was steal glances at Chan like a teenager who thinks he’s falling in love— and maybe he really is falling in love. He’s not opposed to the idea. If falling in love with Chan means more moments like this, picking him up from work and heading out, getting dinner, holding each other’s hands, holding each other, why would he be opposed to the idea?

Chan must have noticed him lost in this thought, and Woojin almost jumps when the former snaps his fingers in front of his face, and Woojin remembers he’s back in his car and Chan is sitting beside him.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You sure? I could drive if you’re tired.”

“No, it’s okay,” Woojin assures him. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. We should get food on our way back.”

“Don’t you just wanna eat dinner somewhere around here?”

“I was thinking maybe we could, you know, head back to my place,” Chan says with a shrug. “You could stay the night, too, if you want.”

Woojin smiles as he starts the car’s engine. “Sure,” he says.

 

It’s no surprise, really, that as soon as they’d stepped inside the apartment, Chan crashes their lips together and wraps his arms around Woojin’s waist. Woojin badly wants to let his hands roam across Chan’s body like they usually would, but right now his hands are preoccupied with plastic bags of food, and he really just wants to throw them on the floor but he doesn’t because food is important, so instead he starts walking further inside the apartment, glad that he’s now very much familiar with the small interior and that he’s also already used to walking around there blindly because of similar circumstances that have occurred before, until they reach the couch where he puts the bags down.

He’s not sure how and when they’d both ended up shirtless and on the bed, with Chan on top of him, but when they pull away for a short while to catch their breaths, he takes the chance to roll them over so he ends up hovering above Chan. He kisses Chan’s forehead gently, before catching his lips again and letting his tongue slide into the other’s mouth.

He trails his lips down, to Chan’s jaw, to his neck, his shoulders, chest, and down until he feels Chan’s palms on both of his shoulders. He stops and moves back up, facing Chan again, propping himself on his elbows.

“Woojin I—,” Chan starts, and Woojin immediately understands.

“You can tell me if you don’t—” he starts to say, too, but Chan cuts him off.

“I-I haven’t done this before.”

“Oh.”

“Does that…” Chan looks away. “Does that turn you off?”

“No! No, Channie, _god_ , no. Just—are you sure about this?” Chan nods. “Okay. Just, tell me if you want to stop, okay?” Chan nods again. “I want this to be… good for the both of us.” Woojin plants a kiss on Chan’s jaw, before whispering in his ear, “But mostly for you.”

And it was good, Woojin thinks, at least for him. And if Woojin were to base it on the way Chan’s hands lovingly caressed every part of his skin that’s accessible, the way Chan breathed out his name, the way Chan’s lips left feathery kisses across his chest and shoulders, the way Chan looked up at him with a smile even while he was panting slightly, the way Chan just stayed with him— if Woojin were to base it on any of these, he’d say that it had been good for Chan, too.

 

Woojin wakes up with his arm feeling numb and with a pale, toned arm draped across his chest. He smiles as he looks at his boyfriend lying beside him, still sleeping soundly and snoring lightly. Chan looks beautiful, he thinks, and he notes that this is actually the very first time he’s ever seen Chan in the light of day; they’d only ever seen each other at night, even when they’d already established their label. Now that he thinks about it, he realizes it must seem unusual, but it has always been what was normal for them, and he wouldn’t change that even if he were given a million chances to.

He thinks he’s been staring for at least an hour, or maybe longer, while his thumb’s just slowly drawing circles on Chan’s shoulder. He’s not able to fall asleep again, too mesmerized by the sunlight pouring in through the blinds in Chan’s bedroom and casting patterns on his sleeping figure, making his pale skin glow in a way no other artificial light or even the moon and stars are able to. He plants a light kiss on his forehead, lips just barely grazing skin, and Chan finally stirs.

“Morning,” he greets groggily, voice still hoarse from sleep and eyes half-open. Woojin finds it cute; he also finds himself looking forward to _more_ moments like this.

“Morning,” Woojin greets him, too. “Wanna get breakfast?” he asks.

Chan groans, moving his limbs for the first time this morning and looking up at Woojin. “I thought you were gonna cook me breakfast?”  

“Do you even have anything to cook?”

“Instant ramen.”

“That’s not breakfast food, Chan.”

“Anything _is_ breakfast food if you believe.”

“Well, I don’t,” Woojin retorts. “We should go to the supermarket later.”

“ _We_?” Chan repeats.

“Yeah,” Woojin confirms. “I don’t trust you to actually go there today.” He knows by now that the closest Chan gets to buying groceries is buying packs of instant ramen at the convenience store. Chan doesn’t deny it, anyway; he just hums in agreement and closes his eyes again.

Woojin thinks he’s already gone back to sleep, but then a few minutes later Chan whispers, “This is the first time we’re doing anything in broad daylight.” And Woojin couldn’t help but smile at the thought, too. While he does really like their nightly meetings, he thinks he can really get used to mornings and afternoons with Chan, too.

“This won’t be the last,” he promises.

**Author's Note:**

> welp thanks for reading i guess ??? lmao idk what the point of this is but i just ,, couldnt get the idea out of my mind its been a month sigh im sorry
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> [curiouscat](http://www.curiouscat.me/straychz)


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